


Part Relief, Part Terror

by argylemikewheeler



Series: Tumblr Re-posts [69]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Also Steve is not straight but quietly, Clueless Mike Wheeler, Gen, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Secret Crush, Side byeler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argylemikewheeler/pseuds/argylemikewheeler
Summary: Prompt: Something where Mike thinks he’s homophobic like two years after Will comes out as gay and goes to Steve for advice on how to get over it and Steve’s confused because Mike’s never had a problem with being Will or Robin being gay and realizes that Mike’s actually just jealous of Will talking to other guys and helps Mike realize he has feelings for Will.





	1. Chapter 1

By the fall of 1989, Steve’s BMW had been in three fender benders, had one headlight replacement, two flat tires in a week of each other, and a clutch replacement. No, Steve hadn’t suddenly lost sight in both eyes and all depth perception; he had been teaching the Party to drive. Max was really _good_ at tailgating (and not stopping fast enough), El always got nervous and would slam on the breaks or pop a bulb with her powers, Dustin drove straight over railroad tracks way too fast, and Mike rode the clutch _far_ too often. It was a strain on his wallet, but they were all really thankful. Mike more than anyone– which explained why he was wasting his Saturday afternoon sitting with Steve while he clumsily changed his oil.

They were in Steve’s driveway, Mike sitting by the front tires with his arms resting on his knees while Steve was under the car on his mechanic’s creeper. Besides just keeping him company, Mike also had the motive of wanting him alone to ask Steve something– maybe something that was safer to not ask while behind the wheel of a car, and possibly just under it.

“Hey Steve?” Mike poked his shin. Steve kicked his foot gently: he was listening. “Are you homophobic?”

Something clanged. “Am I _what_?”

“You know, homophobic?” Mike repeated, tucking his hair behind his ear. “A ‘phobe, if you will.”

“No.” Steve said, his voice muffled. “I mean, I try not to be bone-headed, but my mistakes are not because I’m an asshole.”

“Oh. Okay.” Mike nodded. He picked as his fingernail, waiting until he heard Steve put his tool down. “Am I homophobic?”

Slowly, Steve wheeled himself out from under the car. “Okay, _where_ are you getting this word, Wheeler? _Homophobic_?”

“You know… around.” He muttered.

“Okay, well, Einstein. Did you bother to understand the definition?” Steve wiped his hands on his coveralls and sat up fully in front of Mike.

“It’s a compound word, Idiot.” Mike said, crossing his arms. “I know what it means. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I don’t think you do. Because you don’t show _fear_ at the life and happiness of your friends– I mean, you’re not angry at them, are you?”

Mike bit his lip and bounced his head slowly side to side, the word slipping out. “Maybe…”

“About what? Because just because you fight with your gay friends doesn’t mean you fight with them _because_ they’re gay. All my squabbles with Robin are because we were together _constantly_ and sometimes, I’m a fucking idiot and can’t make change fast enough when there is a line out the door and she’s got a perfect SAT math score. Not because she’s gay.” Steve spoke quickly, sighing when he finished. His hands slapped against his legs, clearing the air for a moment and allowing Mike to meet Steve’s eyes. “That’s not homophobia, Mike.”

“Well, I don’t know!” Mike cried, pushing his legs down. “I got like, really _really_ mad at Will the other week and I– I’m still probably really mad about it now. And I feel bad because…. he’s my best friend and I’m _mad_.”

Steve blinked at him. “That was the most explosively vague sentence I’ve ever heard. Give me more what happened?”

Mike twisted his finger, the knuckle popping quietly. “Will was over and we were just like, talking about our classes and stuff– he’s in this weird art class thing they’re offering kids who can like, draw and shit.”

“Which _is _Will.”

“Yeah, I _know_!” Mike snapped. No one was more proud of Will getting into the program than Mike. Absolutely no one. Mike stood by the main office, waiting for Will to come out of his meeting, and lifted him clean off the floor when Will walked out with a smile and a nod. Mike had never cried from smiling so hard before. He didn’t know it was possible before then. Before Will. “The class isn’t the problem… It’s who’s in it.”

Steve hummed and sighed. “Are _they_ homophobic?”

“No! Still me!” Mike grumbled.

“Wheeler–”

“I am! He started talking about this one _kid_ in his class, Charlie or some shit I don’t know– and I _don’t care_– but _god_ every time he mentions this kid I get so _angry_. Like, I know Will’s gay and he’s gonna talk about boys but… when he does I just get so _mad_.”

Steve looked at Mike for a while, blinking and parting his lips only to abandon his sentence repeatedly. _Oh fuck. That can’t be good_.

“See? I am homophobic! I’m such a bad person! Fuck!” Mike scrambled to get to his feet, only to collapse back as Steve yanked his arm.

“That’s… That’s not what that is.” He said with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. It wasn’t funny, but Mike was missing the joke. “You aren’t hateful, Wheeler. You’re, uh, you’re _jealous_.”

“What.” Mike said flatly. “I don’t even _know_ this Charlie kid.”

Steve stared at Mike, his jaw tight and lips rolling inward. He blinked and lifted his eyebrows. “Mike.”

“I’m _not _jealous! You know what? You really are an idiot.“ Mike rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was worse: being terrible to his best friend or having Steve lie to him and tell him he was just _jealous_.

“I didn’t say you were jealous of Will.” Steve said slowly. “But perhaps, of Charlie… for spending so much time with Will.”

“I mean, yeah.” Mike scoffed. “That kid doesn’t know Will. He’s not funny or like, as cool as, you know, his _best friend_.” Mike motioned toward himself and rolled his eyes again. “Why would _he_ be spending time with Will? He’s not… like, I don’t know, _worthy_.”

Steve clicked his tongue and grabbed Mike’s arm carefully– tenderly, like his words were about to become violent. Mike leaned back, eyebrows furrowing. “Mike.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I don’t feel that way about Robin.”

“Okay…”

“I don’t feel that way about any of my friends. In fact, I _only_ feel that way about girls that I like when they hang out with _other _men. And obviously like them better than me. That’s called _jealousy_.” He lifted his eyebrows, highlighting the word.

“I don’t get it. So you’ve got really bad game. What’s your point.”

“You aren’t getting mad because Will’s talking about another guy. You’re mad because you think Will might _like_ this guy.”

“And that’s homophobia!”

“No, that’s called having a crush, Mike.” Steve was slow with his words, almost handing them over to Mike with cupped hands. In the silence, he held onto them until Mike was ready to take them.

Mike swallowed and it felt like he had inhaled the draining oil from Steve’s car. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m not gay.”

“Okay, valid response… but that doesn’t mean you can’t like other guys. You can be a whole bunch of things and still like guys, Mike. It’s possible.” Steve shrugged. “Sometimes the kid in your business 101 class is cute, and guy who always comes in and rents history documentaries that you stupidly love hearing the summary of the following week. Sometimes it happens.”

“No. No! I– I don’t… That’s scary. W-What I can just _start liking guys_? That’s… No. I’m not… Since when?” Mike sputtered, shaking his head.

He’d never considered the possibility. He’d always been so relieved to like girls; he’d never have to be what he’d heard so frequently was so terrible from his father. Mike was so _fucking_ relieved when he’d realized that he had the ability to like and love women. There wasn’t a thought that the relief came from a place of worrying he’d ever actually like a boy. That wasn’t right. Mike wasn’t wrong.

“It’s not like a virus, Wheeler. C’mon. It’s just _life_. Crushes aren’t _plagues_.” Steve kept his hand on Mike’s arm. There wasn’t fear or even repulsion. Mike wasn’t sure what was happening. Everything felt like a lie.

“I don’t _like_ Will.”

“You just said this boy wasn’t _worthy _of hanging out with Will. No one says that about casual friends.”

“Well he’s _not_! He doesn’t even care about Will… At least not… The way _I_ do.” Mike admitted, setting his jaw as he heard himself say it. Steve sat quietly, waving him on.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know! I just… everything he does is… _so_ cool and everyone just thinks it’s normal art or normal _whatever_, but it’s _not_, okay? They’re masterpieces and Will’s a fucking genius. At like, _ev-er-y-thing_.”

“Oh dear God, you poor fucking soul. You are _so_ in love. I’m gonna hurl.” Steve laughed, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Mike. He wasn’t sure why, but Mike felt like the hug was an admittance of pity, or failure. He was being coddled.

“I’m not in love. I-I’m not.” Mike argued, shaking his head. He was hoping to protect himself with a just a quiet denial. “That’s wrong.”

“It’s okay, Mike.” Steve held the back of Mike’s head, rocking them back and forth. For a moment, Mike was sure Steve thought he was actually holding baby, but accepted it the moment he felt himself start to cry. “You’re okay.”

“Why? Why do I care this much about Will? It’s _stupid_ but he’s just… No, I don’t like him. There’s no way.” Mike pushed Steve away, wiping his eyes with a harsh swipe of his thumbs.

“Mike, this isn’t a bad thing. Crushes are supposed to make you feel good– what’s why we _have them_. We’ve found someone that makes us feel so good and so happy we just _can’t_ stop thinking about them and how freaking _cute_ and _cool_ they are. That’s how it starts.”

“Well, I don’t…” Mike couldn’t even say he didn’t even _feel_ that way about Will. He knew he did. He knew the prospect of seeing Will was the highlight of every single day. “I don’t want to feel this way.”

“Okay. That’s different. That’s okay too, but… Hm. Okay, so maybe homophobic is the right word.”

“What?” Mike blinked, sniffling.

“Maybe not towards Will though. Maybe think about how maybe _you_ are– I don’t know– having that _fear_ with yourself.” Steve mumbled, waving his hand around to stir up the words.

“… That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Mike said harshly. That wasn’t possible. Mike wasn’t scared, he just didn’t want to upset his father. Or his mother. Or his friends. Or his neighbors. Or his teachers. Or anyone at school… It was different. Mike wasn’t _scared_. He just wanted to not bother anyone. That’s all he had been hoping for his whole life; to just be quiet enough to disappear.

Steve shrugged and waved the thought away. “All I’m saying is let yourself feel happy.” Steve said. “And definitely get rid of this Charlie kid. He sounds like a snotty art kid.”

“He _is!”_ Mike cried. “All he talks about is _Monet_.”

“The water lily dude? Oh, gross. Boring.”

“Hey. That’s Will’s favorite artist right now.” Mike said pointedly, crossing his arms. Mike had stared at that woman and her umbrella in that field for enough hours with Will to at least get it a _little _bit.

“Oh, so it’s okay when Will talks about him but not this other kid.” Steve chuckled. “That sounds… _biased_.”

“Um, _no_. Will’s like, super knowledgeable about him. And tells me all the names of his strokes and shit. This kid just like. Knows he painted that one bridge painting.”

“Oh, so now _you’re_ an expert.”

“Well, yeah. Because I listen to Will! He’s always showing me stuff.” Mike explained flippantly.

Steve positioned himself back on the creeper, lying down and grabbing the bumper of his car. “Does Will always talk to you about paintings and art?”

“Well, yeah. All the time.” Mike nodded.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded to himself. “Okay, so, my advice? Don’t worry about Charlie. Like, at all. He’s a red herring– absolutely a moot point. Complete bozo, nobody, nothing.” He rolled himself under the car as if that was enough.

“Wait! Why?” Mike grabbed Steve’s leg and pulled him out again. “What does that mean?”

“Will definitely likes you too.” He smiled. “He’s testing to see if you like him too.”

“He is? H-He does?” Mike gasped, tensing. There was that relief again, but this time it felt so different. It wasn’t a protective sinking that stuck Mike to the ground beneath him; it was a lifting, _glowing_ sigh that made Mike feel like he was weightless. He was afraid to speak, to shatter the moment in which everything didn’t seem _so_ terrible.

“Yeah. Totally. I may not know _anything_, but seriously. Showing you the thing he’s the _most_ interested in? Man, Byers is crazy about you. Definitely.” Steve wiggled the creeper back under the car. “You should ask him to go to the movies.”

“We do that every week.”

“Offer to pay this time.” Steve said, moving his foot to nudge Mike’s leg. “Like a date.”

Mike had never heard of the simplistic _joy_ and closeness he felt when he was at the movies with Will ever being linked to people like _that_– like _Mike_, evidently. The way he felt, brightly shining in his own pleasant happiness in the darkness of the theater, Will’s elbow nudging his own, was not something Mike ever thought gay people felt. He’d been taught differently. Granted, he saw Will being happy and brilliant every day of their lives, but Mike never thought it was eternal. There was never going to be a day that love was going to run out or joy was going to run dry.

A crush was just a beginning. It was part relief, part terror. Mike had never liked another boy before, never thought he would. And now he had to reconcile that he had been slowly falling for one boy _his entire life_. The crush wasn’t new; it had been constant and was familiar by then. It was a future Mike had come to expect and look forward to. Maybe it was time he started it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Ch 2 ft. Will!

It was October, blissfully chilled and calm outside. Steve had decided to wash his car in the quiet of the neighborhood, playing some tapes he borrowed from Jonathan and enjoying the afternoon sun. That was of course exactly what Will was expecting, getting in his car and speeding to Steve’s house the moment his mother told him he was free of household chores.

Will had gotten home from a movie, uh, _outing_ with Mike two days before and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Every time his mother answered the phone though, mouthing _Mike_ as she pointed at the receiver, Will would rush to his room as if about to vomit. The prospect of _any_ consequence due to what had happened at the movies was not lost on Will. It was he subject of every free thought and every dream.

Will barely bothered shutting his car off as he rushed up Steve’s driveway.

“Steve! Steve!” Will called, staggering up the lawn, nearly tripping on the extended hose. His music was loud and Will cupped his mouth as he spoke again. “Stevestevestevesteve!”

“What!” Steve said harshly, whipping around. His stream of water redirected and landed directly on Will. He didn’t stop running. “Jesus, Will. What the fu– _hell_ are you doing?”

“I have to talk to you.” Will panted, coming to a stop just as Steve dropped the hose.

“O-Okay.” Steve muttered, giving Will a concerned look. He reached for a towel and handed it to Will slowly, waiting for his explosion. Will knew there was a lit fuse, but he wasn’t sure how to even articulate the bubbling anxiety inside of him. Will was afraid he would just _genuinely _explode.

“I went to the movies with Mike.” Will said, choking on the truth. His throat was dry from the run, licking his lips to try and catch some of the stray drops of water before he wiped his face. “Friday. I went to the movies.”

“Okay. Great. What did you see?”

“I don’t remember.” Will said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t… It doesn’t matter!”

“I thought you were going to see that new _Halloween_ movie. Mike said something about _Revenge _the other day. I thought it looked good!” Steve shrugged, picking up his sponge again.

“Wait– Mike talked to you about it?” Will walked into Steve’s peripheral view, grabbing his arm. Steve looked nervous– Will was sure it was just because of his erratic behavior. He took a slow breath, trying to ease Steve’s tense expression. “What did he say?”

“Just that, uh, that you guys were going out– going to the movies, I mean. Just like _out_. After school, just like, hanging out.” Steve wiped his driver’s side window nine times.

“That was it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.” Steve nodded repeatedly. “Why?”

“…I think– I don’t know. I think something happened.” Will exhaled and let his shoulders hang. “But, I don’t know if I should be happy or scared. I’m delusional, I’m pretty sure.”

“What happened?” Steve stopped wiping and let his sponge hang by his side, wetting his jeans. “Something bad?”

“I–I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? Just off your own feelings– are you okay or no?” Steve insisted, although he wasn’t treating Will like he was an idiot for speaking so strangely. He was willing to wait.

“I am.” Will nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Good.”

“But like, maybe I’m not.”

“Oh for the love of _God–”_

“Mike bought my movie ticket.” Will said loudly, waving Steve’s frustration away. “Mike _bought_ my movie ticket.”

“He did. Hm.” Steve took the information in with surprising nonchalance– it almost looked like pride. Will pressed on anyway.

“Yeah, he did. He never does that. And we _always_ go to the movies.” Will stepped forward and grabbed Steve’s sponge; he needed something to do with his hands. He was definitely going to explode.

“Did he say why?” Steve’s tone was long and drawn out. He was asking for an answer he already knew– but Will didn’t know why.

“He, uh.” The words stuck in Will’s throat; saying them purposefully was harder than Mike, who had most likely said it completely on accident. There was no way they had belonged in that conversation. “He called it a movie _date_.”

Steve blinked at Will, watching his hand go around and around washing the same five inches of his hood. He sucked his front teeth for a moment, his tongue clicking before his jaw set and he met Will’s eyes. “Okay now I’m confused. What part of that is _unclear_ to you? He said ‘date’ so the boy meant a _date_.”

“But Mike _never_ says that! It was obviously a mistake right? I need you to tell me it was a mistake so I can go about my life and know that Michael Isaac Wheeler did not just take me on a _date_ without asking me and leave me to be completely nervous and confused the whole time that I barely spoke to him and completely _ruined_ our first date– which we _didn’t_ have because Mike is _not_ interested in me or any other boy.” Will cried, his grip starting to rip the sponge. “I need you to say that. Now. Tell me.”

“Uh.” Steve looked away again, fixating on a distant, unknown point. “I’m– So wait. You want me to lie?”

“STEVE!” Will squawked, his hand leaving the sponge on the hood as he covered his face. “Tell me it wasn’t a date! Tell me he _doesn’t_ like me! Tell me I’m making it all up.”

Steve sighed, but it sounded far more somber than beginner’s frustration. Will parted his fingers and peered out at him. “Why do you want me to say that? Do you not _want _him to like you?”

“Of course I do!” Will cried, his voice dropping quickly to a hushed whisper. Steve’s neighbor was stood a few feet away, taking out his trash. “Of course I do. But I know that he doesn’t and I need you to– you to stop me from lying to myself. Mike will never like me.”

The longer Steve didn’t talk, the faster Will’s fuse burned. It was a mistake– it wasn’t the truth. Mike would never take Will on a date. He didn’t _like_ him. That was only meant to be a distant fantasy. Will wasn’t prepared for it to be real life; he wasn’t cool enough, good-looking enough, or even charming enough to part take in that play. It was for some other version of himself; one that deserved Mike.

“Steve. _Say_ something.”

“Why? You’re asking me to lie to you.” Steve said firmly. “And I’m not going to do that.”

“What? That’s bullshit. Just _tell_ me the truth!”

“Hey! Language, Byers.” Steve pointed a finger at him before grabbing the sponge. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.”

Somehow, only then, did Steve’s words sink in. “Liar? I’m not _asking _you to– wait. Lie? No. No no no. Why are you– No.”

Steve waited, painfully and patiently, for Will to finish sputtering the same four words. “He was here the other day.” He said, finally.

“He was?” Will wasn’t sure how to feel, standing exactly where Mike had stood– both somehow seeking out the same safety without the other knowing.

Steve’s words dried up. “Yeah.”

“I-Is he okay?” Will knew it was none of his business, but if it was his _date_, maybe he had somewhat of a right to know– although he knew Steve wasn’t going to share.

“He’s fine.” Steve nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“He was here… And you talked to him…” Will said slowly. “And now you’re saying that you won’t _lie_ to me… Did he _talk_ about me?”

Steve tilted his head back, groaning and pressing his eyes closed. “Uh, well– Yeah. He did. But that’s all I’m going to say, Byers. I don’t go around telling everyone your business and I’m not–”

“It _was_ a date.” Will muttered. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel faint or not– if he was supposed to feel like his entire world was collapsing. Everything just felt still. Normal, maybe.

“Yes! It was!”

“He bought me a ticket because… He likes me.” All of Will’s delusions were real.

“He does. Yeah– I mean, safe to assume. He took you on a date.” Steve started washing his car again. Returning to normal.

Will grabbed the hood and slowly sat down on the driveway. Things _were_ normal, but they were different. Things had drastically changed from twenty-four hours prior, but nothing of Will’s new world seemed indigestible. It was like getting his world righted after not knowing it was off-kilter for so long. Like getting glasses and seeing the veins on the leaves. Everything made sense.

“Mike took me on a date.” Will exhaled, holding his temples. “Oh _shit_.”

“Hey! Byers, come on. Watch the language.” Steve said without bite. “I know you’ve got a boyfriend now but that doesn’t mean you can say whatever you want.”

Will turned his head, staring at Steve, wide-eyed. “_Fuck_, I’ve got a boyfriend.”

**Author's Note:**

> [The Rebloggable Post!](https://argylemikewheeler.tumblr.com/post/186680834605/so-this-is-a-very-specific-prompt-but-could-you)


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